Quest of The Dawn Man

by J. H. Rosny

  The Oulhamr went to the right of the fire. Two of the Chellians, seeing that they were discovered, tried to retreat. A spear whistled through the air, and a loud cry rang out in the stillness.

  The Wah shot in his turn, and a second Chellian sank to the ground, hit in the thigh.

  "The Men-of-the-Fire have now three wounded,” shouted the Oulhamr’s ringing voice.

  The black storm-clouds mounted ever higher; the men were enveloped by the eternal forces of earth and sky as it were in deep, intangible, fierce waves. The Moon had disappeared, there was now only the waning glow of the fire and dazzling flashes of lightning. The Chellians had become invisible, fearing to expose themselves to the enemy’s spears and javelins; the Oulhamr, the Wah and the Lemurians realized the impossibility of attacking an enemy entrenched behind masses of rock.

  There was a pause in the mysterious rolling of the storm. The wind had fallen, thunder was not yet heard; the animals couched in the forest were still. Then the clouds growled like a drove of aurochs; water, the mother of all, began to fall in heavy drops, and fury seized upon the Chellians. Their fire would be put out; they could not protect it even in the stone cages where they preserved it for future use; they would find themselves on the savannah and in the forest in no better case than a pack of wolves.

  The chief issued orders. The Men-of-the-Fire attacked, all shouting together. Four of them, two being the wounded men, directed their steps towards Zouhr and the Lemurians. The deep-chested chief and the strongest warriors bounded towards Aoun. Two arrows whistled past them, followed by two others, which the darkness and the pace of the assailants rendered ineffectual. Aoun retreated towards the river, in order to gain time to enable him to fling his spears, while Zouhr and the Lemurians turned towards the forest.

  The spears only inflicted slight wounds: the Chellians quickened their pace, with cries of victory; the Oulhamr continued his retreat and the Wah was approaching covert. Suddenly water poured from the sky like a thousand torrents, the fire sputtered; only the warrior who was wounded in the thigh remained at the camp and protected the fire cages under the stones.

  Zouhr and his party were surrounded. The youngest of the Lemurians, who was terrified, tried to flee to a tree for safety; his body was laid open by a javelin stroke and a stone crushed in his head. Rah and the thick-set man defended themselves with the clubs which the Oulhamr had fashioned for them; Zouhr felled the Chellian who was wounded in the shoulder with a blow of his axe, but another came stealthily behind him, seized the Wah by the back of his neck and threw him to the ground.

  As soon as Aoun saw that the aggressors were separated by a distance of fifteen ells, he made three enormous bounds and brought down his club.

  The first blow shattered a javelin, the second split a man’s head. The Chellian chief and the Oulhamr found themselves face to face. They were both of formidable build. That of the chief was reminiscent of the bear or the wild boar: woolly hair covered his body; his round eyes shot fire. Aoun was of taller stature, his broad chest did not resemble that of any animal, and his body was firmly poised on stout legs. He held his club in both hands. His antagonist’s javelin was made of ebony wood, heavy and very pointed, capable of inflicting a deep wound or breaking a bone.

  The Chellian struck first; and his weapon hardly touched the son of Urus. Aoun whirled his club. It only met the ground, while a growl burst from the Chellian’s lips. His enormous face expressed hatred, murder and insult.

  For a moment they watched one another, each of them having retreated a little. Torrential rain enveloped them in mist, the last embers of the fire gave hardly any light; each of the combatants felt death was passing near them as they heard the peals of thunder, and felt the moor tremble beneath their feet.

  Aoun resumed the offensive. The club whirled and grazed the tawny body of the Chellian, while the sharp point of the. javelin lacerated the Oulhamr’s shoulder. Then their weapons became entangled. The javelin touched Aoun’s chest at the moment when he was bounding back. Blood Bowed from two wounds. Aoun, shouting his war-cry, seized the javelin with one hand and struck with the other. The blow descended full on the Chellian’s head, and paralyzed him; a second blow broke his collar bone; more heavy blows were rained upon him and fractured his ribs. . . .

  The fire had just gone out; darkness was over all. The flashes of lightning became more rare and feeble, and hardly seemed to pierce the dense blackness. Aoun sought in vain for Zouhr and the Lemurians; the storm had blown away all odours.

  He called “Where does Zouhr hide himself? the son of Urus has overthrown his enemies!"

  He was answered by a far away growl, which came from the forest and did not at all resemble the voice of the Man-without-Shoulders. Aoun felt his way in the darkness or ran when the lightning flashed. The form of Rah emerged when he came to the border of the forest, then vanished in the shadows. The Lemurian stammered obscure words, and Aoun guessed that the Wah had disappeared. Sometimes a flash of lightning shewed him some gesture more expressive than words. At last the thick-set Lemurian appeared also. His attempts at explaining something he wished to say were even more confused than the stammering accents of the other.

  All action was impossible. The men were enveloped in the unceasing rain; they were more powerless than insects hidden under leaves or in the hollow bark of trees, and the big Oulhamr was in the greatest distress he had ever known. His groans and lamentations rent the air, his chest heaved with great sobs, his tears mingled with the rain. His whole past was bound up with Zouhr. He had loved him since the days when Naoh had brought him back from the country of the Red Dwarfs. Just because Zouhr preferred him to all other beings, Aoun also preferred Zouhr. Sometimes he shouted a loud call and hope would cause his shoulders to heave. Hours passed; the rain ceased; a pale light shewed in the east; he could just see the body of the Man-of-the-Fire whom Zouhr had killed, the young Lemurian, whose mangled body was hideous to behold, and also the bodies of the chief and of the warrior whom Aoun had felled. Near the cinders of the burnt-out fire a Chellian lay groaning, his leg pierced by a spear. Wao lying crumpled up near a mass of rock, had fainted so long ago that she had not heard Aoun and Rah’s calls. Weak and shivering she gave a hoarse laugh when she saw her companion and the son of Urus.

  The Chellian threw himself in front of Aoun beseeching for mercy. The gentleness for which his tribe reproached him inclined the son of Urus to pardon him. But two of the Lemurians were already striking the man with their clubs; they crushed his neck and fractured his skull. Aoun was indignant but he knew it was the law of war.

  Wao, who had learnt the meaning of the Oulhamr’s gestures better than Rah, remembered a few words which Zouhr had taught her. She listened to the Lemurians and made Aoun understand that the Chellians had carried off the son of Earth into the forest. But the rain had made it impossible for their nyctalopic eyes to see clearly at that time. Rah had lost his way, and so had the thickset Lemurian, who was also wounded and in a fainting condition. So the Wah’s fate remained uncertain; hope and fear alternated in Aoun’s breast. He sought for the trail all the morning. They might find it some distance off, or Zouhr might be dead. The Lemurians scattered in all directions; those who had fled on the previous day returned, and the help of so many sharp eyes and keen noses was inestimable. . . . Finally one party went up the river and the other took a downward course, and both were to cross to the other bank. Aoun was with those who went down stream. He walked two-thirds of the day and forded the river. . . . Wao stopped and gave a sharp cry: the trail was found! They saw the trace of footsteps in the clay, they detected Zouhr’s presence.

  Joy welled up in the heart of the Oulhamr, but it was at once mingled with fear. The trail was no longer fresh; the Chellians had passed in the morning, and it would be impossible to overtake them till the following day. Moreover it would be necessary that Aoun should go on alone. The Lemurians would be unable to keep up with him, even at a distance. He made sure that all his weapons were intact: thre
e javelins recovered on the field of battle, two spears, his axe and club. He did not forget the flint and marcasite stone with which to make fire. . . . He stood still for a moment, with a beating heart; he felt a kind of tenderness for these feeble, badly-armed men, with their imperfect speech, and rudimentary gestures. They had hunted with him, lived by his fire, and many of them had displayed real courage in the struggle with the kidnappers.

  He murmured gently, “Rah, Wao and Olin are the allies of the Oulhamrs. . . . But the Men-of-the-Fire have a long start of us, and they go swiftly. . . . Aoun alone can overtake them.”

  Wao understood his signs and explained them to the others. Deep depression weighed down the Lemurians.

  Wao wept and Rah made a sound like that of a wounded dhole when Aoun began to ascend the slope. They accompanied him to the crest where the plateau began. The Oulhamr sped away like a wolf; the Lemurians shouted after him, and he halted a moment to console them, “The son of Urus will see the Hairy Men again!”

  Then he resumed his course. At times the trail became uncertain, then it was strong again. At the spots where, owing to the fugitives having halted for some time, the earth was impregnated with their effluvia, the wanderer found grasses which Zouhr had held for a long time in his hand and then had thrown away: Aoun recognized the Wah’s subtle ruse. He was surprised that the Chellians had not killed their prisoner, who, being less active than they were, must hinder their flight.

  He only halted twice to rest, and then for a very short time, until the evening. Then he continued to seek the trail by the light of the moon and stars. It grew ever more and more recent. When he lay down exhausted among the rocks however, he was still far from the fugitives.

  He made the circuit of a little lake in the early dawn, and found himself back in the forest. More than once he was in doubt and missed the way, and towards mid-day, when he was about to rest, he was perturbed by a new discovery. The trail had become much plainer; a small hunting-party had joined those who were carrying off Zouhr, doubling their number. Aoun could even distinguish the way by which the newcomers had arrived. There were now six adversaries to fight and no doubt he was approaching the territory of the horde.

  To fight seemed to be impossible. No Oulhamr other than Aoun or Naoh would have continued the pursuit. The son of Urus was carried away by an instinct which was stronger than prudence, and he relied partly on his fleetness of foot, which equalled that of the wild ass; the short-legged Chellians would never be able to catch him.

  The hours slipped by; the second day was declining when, despite the numbers of those he was pursuing, Aoun found he had lost the trail at the passage of a river. As it was quite shallow the wanderer had crossed it without difficulty, but on the other side there was no trail. . . . He searched desperately: evening was far advanced and still he had discovered nothing. Then he sat down, tired out and wretched, with no courage left even to light a fire.

  After a short rest, he started off once more. He traversed an uneven country where clear spaces alternated with woods, and here he became aware of slight odours, which a favourable wind rendered more intense. They were certainly the emanations of the Men-of-the-Fire and yet he seemed to perceive a difference. There was nothing to be betoken Zouhr’s presence.

  He picked his way carefully among the brushwood and the bamboos; crawled through the high grasses, and found himself close to those whom he sought. ... A menacing sound made him start; two human forms rose up whose presence he had not expected, for the wind had carried their smell in the opposite direction.

  They had seen him. It was necessary to be prepared to fight. The moon, already at the full, lit up the two forms vividly. He became aware that they were not men but women. Thick-set, short-legged, with the stout bodies and thick faces of the Chellians, they each held a long and heavy spear.

  The Oulhamr women seldom bore arms. Although the wanderer had seen the Lemurian women almost equal to the males in strength, he was surprised to see these two forms in a threatening attitude. He felt no anger and spoke in friendly tones, “Aoun has not come to kill women.”

  They listened, their anxious faces cleared. Aoun began to laugh so as to further reassure them, then he advanced slowly, holding his club low. One of the women recoiled, and with a bound both of them took to flight, either from fear or in order to warn their companions. But their short legs could not compete with Aoun’s long limbs: he caught them up and passed them. . . . Then they waited side by side, their javelins pointed towards him.

  He shook his club unconcernedly murmuring, “The club would easily break the javelins. . . ."

  With a movement in which there was more of fear than animosity, one of the women darted her weapon. Aoun turned it aside, and broke its point; then without retaliating he went on, "Why do you make war on the son of Urus?”

  They understood that he had spared them and gazed at him abashed. The one who had not made use of her weapon, lowered her javelin and made signs of peace, which were soon repeated by the other. Then they resumed their way. Confident of his own powers and activity Aoun followed them. All three advanced against the wind to a distance of four thousand ells. They reached a place covered with ferns, where by the light of the moon the wanderer became aware of the presence of more women. . . . They had risen up when they saw the man, and were gesticulating and uttering cries, which were answered by the new arrivals.

  For a time, Aoun feared a trap. He could have fled, the way was open, but fatigue, solitude and pain had made him listless. When anxiety awoke in him once more, he had already reached the camp, and the women had surrounded him.

  There were twelve of them, including those that had brought in the wanderer; several children were among them, and two or three quite little ones lay asleep. Most of the women were young, heavily built, with enormous jaws, but one of them fascinated Aoun because she had the flexible figure of the daughters of Gammla, the most beautiful among the Oulhamr. A dazzling mane flowed over her shoulders, her teeth shone like mother of pearl. A gentle and timid force penetrated the warrior’s heart; brilliant memories awoke within him and united themselves to the fresh form of the stranger. . . .

  The women drew their circle closer. One of them, with brawny arms and shoulders, was face to face with the son of Urus. Energy seemed to exude from her sparkling eyes, and her muscular cheeks. He understood that she was offering to make an alliance with him, and as he knew of no race in which men and women form separate hordes, he looked round for the male members of the tribe. Not seeing any he made gestures of acquiescence. They then all laughed and followed this up by friendly signs, which he understood better than those of the Lemurians.

  Nevertheless they remained much astonished. They had never before seen a warrior of such great stature or one whose speech was so different from their own. Their horde only knew three kinds of human beings: those who formed the hunting-party whose prisoner Zouhr was; the Lemurians, whom they had seldom seen and whom they did not fight; and the beings of their own race, where the men and women did not usually intermingle, and whose marriages were consecrated by fierce rites. Even if Aoun had belonged to their own race, they would have rejected him or subjected him to hard trials. They only accepted him because they were attracted by the novelty of the adventure and because they were passing through an inauspicious time. Half of them had perished in consequence of various disasters or under the weapons of the Chellians; most of the children had died.

  In addition, having lost their fire, they wandered miserably on the earth, crushed by the sense of their downfall and full of hatred against their enemies.

  It was pleasant to them to have this tall stranger as an ally, for he seemed as strong as the gayals. After crowding round him for a long time, trying to understand his gestures and to teach him theirs, they finally understood that he was seeking for a companion whose trail he had lost. It was a satisfaction to them to know that the Oulhamr’s adversaries were the same men that they themselves execrated. Aoun, guessing that their fire h
ad been put out, set himself to collect dry grasses. With the help of twigs and his stones he brought the flame to life. The younger ones leapt round him with enthusiastic cries, the words they pronounced, repeated in chorus, making a kind of chant. When the red life spread to the branches their cries became frenzied. Only the girl with the fine cheeks did not lift up her voice: she contemplated the fire and the wanderer in silent rapture, and when she spoke it was in a timid and seductive manner.

  AT THE END OF THE LAKE

  Every morning Aoun resumed his search for Zouhr’s trail. The women followed him, full of an ever-growing confidence. By dint of taking part in the same acts and exchanging gestures they understood the Oulhamr’s object quite clearly. He too became familiar with their signs. His strength and activity amazed them; they admired his weapons, especially his harpoons and spears, which killed animals at a distance. Weakened by misery and defeat, they rallied humbly round the stranger and liked to obey him. Their help was not to be despised. Four of them were more robust, lithe and swift than Zouhr; they were all capable of enduring great fatigue. Those who had little children could carry them all day without being tired. The boys and girls had the endurance of jackals.

  Had it not been for the loss of Zouhr, their evenings would have been very pleasant. Every night, when Aoun struck sparks from the stones, the women shewed the same ecstasy as on the first occasion, and their joy delighted the big Oulhamr. Above all he loved to watch Djeha, with her long beautiful hair, her bright eyes reflecting the flames: he dreamed of returning with her to his native horde; his heart began to beat. . . .

  At the end of a week the trees became still more sparse; a long steppe stretched out before them with only a few thickets, spinneys and brushwood to break the monotony.